


find your own way back home

by cosmicpoet



Series: momoharu week 2018 [8]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Children, F/M, Soulmates, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 16:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Soulmate AU: When your soulmate dies, you feel the pain as if it were happening to you.Momota is in space, Harukawa is on earth. Which will crumble first?





	find your own way back home

Getting to space is a bittersweet reality for Momota. He has grown from being the wide-eyed child, staring at the sky with his grandfather, to the young adult studying astrophysics, and now, he stands – or rather, floats – proudly in his job as a genuine, real astronaut, and it has only taken him twenty-eight years to get here. And fuck, the universe is so beautiful, despite him having seen so little of it. He’s not exactly very far from earth, but the perspective is wildly different; everything, all of his problems, all of the world’s conflict, it means so little from out here.

And it’s beautiful. But still, bittersweet.

Because going to space is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And when something like this comes around, you pretty much can’t turn it down. Even if you’ve just found out that your wife is pregnant.

Momota had initially wanted to turn down the mission. He was going to be a _father,_ like the one he never had, and that meant being there for Harukawa every second of the way. Yeah, he’d dreamed of touching the stars his whole life, but he’d much rather stay grounded on earth if he could help his wife, love her, cherish her, and be there for the birth of his child. But Harukawa had refused to let him give up on his dream, and she made him promise that he’d go to space. After all – he’ll be home only a month after the due date, and she had promised him that Saihara would help her.

So, reluctantly – a word Momota would never have used to describe getting onto a shuttle – he had gone to space. And he’d been there, now, for nine months. Every day, his mind focuses less on the stars and more on the fact that any day now, he will be a father. A _father._ He’ll have a little child, who he can take stargazing, make packed lunches for, teach how to ride a bike, love infinitely. And his grandparents will finally be great-grandparents. The excitement that bubbles in his chest absolutely bursts like every supernova in the whole universe, and his entire body itches with the ache to see Harukawa again, hold her, hold their baby.

Only one month to go.

He’s preparing for an excursion outside the space station – nothing major, just some minor repairs that he’s volunteered to do, since he wants to get the most out of being in space that he possibly can – when one of his fellow astronauts approaches him as he’s getting into his spacesuit.

“Yo, Momota, heard any news yet?”

“Not yet,” he replies, “but soon. I can feel it, y’know?”

“See ya when you get back in.”

“Yep,” Momota sighs. Just a routine mission, after all. Nothing that’s going to stop him from going home in a month. It’s a strange kind of homesickness – he’s not yearning for the things he knows; it’s the same feeling he’s always had when he thinks of the universe, a deep excitement for the possibility of something new, like a reverse-nostalgia for something not yet experienced.

As he floats in the vastness of the universe, working happily on the space station, a strange numbness creeps into his legs. He tries to brush it off, but it only gets stronger as time passes, until it’s impossible to ignore. Frantically, he checks his spacesuit, but there’s nothing wrong with it – and if there were, he’d likely be dead already. But the feeling doesn’t stop, like his whole body now is on fire; he can’t see himself fully because of the suit, but it feels like there’s blood pouring out of everywhere, and he screams, terrified, raw, guttural, utter panic. There are voices in his helmet, but he can’t hear them, all he can hear in his ears is the gushing sound of his own blood leaving his body, ripping through him, tearing into his chest and pushing every part of him out into the cold; he can’t take it, _he can’t take it…_ and he passes out.

When he wakes, he is not dead. He’s being attended to by his colleagues, pushed against a wall so his limp body doesn’t float away.

“Momota, what the hell happened out there?”

“I…I…I’m not dead?”

“Nah man, we got your vitals checked, you’re fine. What the fuck?”

“But I…I felt like…it was burning and I… _oh, God…_ Harumaki.”

“What, you think something’s happened to her?”

“I dunno, man, I fucking hope not but…I felt it.”

“You mean that whole soulmate thing?”

“Y-Yeah,” Momota’s voice shakes.

“But that would mean she’s…dead, right?”

“L-Listen, it’ll be nothing. I bet she’s just fine. I’m probably panicking over nothing. Just nervous about becoming a dad, y’know? Look, I’m gonna video call her, just put my mind at ease.”

“Sure, man, whatever you need.”

Momota’s hands shakily dial Harukawa. He expects her to pick up like she always does, but the phone just keeps ringing and ringing until he can’t bear the sound anymore and he shuts it off; still, it echoes in his ears, taunting him with the terror of not knowing.

He tries Saihara. After eight rings, he finally picks up.

“How’s Harumaki?”

“M-Momota, I…”

 _“Saihara._ How’s Harumaki?”

“How d-did you…?”

“Oh god. No no no no _no, please fuck no,_ god Saihara I’m begging you, fuck, tell me she’s okay.”

“It happened just a m-moment ago,” Saihara says, and for the first time, Momota notices that he’s crying, “everything was going fine before this…but she just…god, Momota, there was blood everywhere. We couldn’t…I couldn’t…the doctors couldn’t…we _tried_ to save her.”

“Damn it. Fuck,” Momota’s voice shakes as his whole world collapses, “ _fuck._ You didn’t try hard enough!”

“Momota…I…”

“What happened? I need to know.”

“She was…I mean…the birth seemed to be going fine, and then…”

“Oh my god,” Momota covers his mouth and breaks out in tears, he can’t possibly hold them in anymore, “s-she…we…I’m a f-father. Why am I not happy? This was supposed to be happy! No… _no…_ this isn’t real. I’ll wake up and this won’t be real.”

“Momota, I’m sorry, but…”

“This isn’t real.”

“I wish it wasn’t real either. B-But it is. Harukawa…she’s…I-I’m sorry.”

“Did she…at least get to name our baby?”

“Fuck,” Saihara says, his eyes looking downwards; they haven’t made eye contact throughout the whole conversation, “I…can’t.”

The camera jostles as Momota hears Saihara mumble something faint, and then he sees his grandmother’s face on the screen; she looks older, sadder.

“Momota, son,” she says, and he stays silent, “your baby girl didn’t make it either.”

“I…I have a baby girl,” he says, his voice almost an echo.

“They both…didn’t make it. I’m so sorry, son.”

“I’m…I was…a father. And…Harumaki…no…please, god, no. If only I was there, if only I’d been…”

“There was nothing any of us could have done.”

Momota hangs up the phone. He doesn’t want to hear anything any of them have to say. Harukawa…his Harumaki…is dead. And their baby girl, a beautiful soul who he knows would have been named Celeste…she’s dead before he could even meet her, hold her fragile body, tuck her in, take her to school, watch as she graduates.

As he stars out at the vastness of space, and the earth below, Momota understands that in such a wide, unforgiving universe, it is a privilege to be happy, and a crushing reality to be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaand Day Eight of Momoharu Week is here! Today was 'Free Choice', so I chose my own prompt of 'soulmates'. And wow...this week is done.
> 
> Thank you. Thank you so much to all of you. To those who participated, your time and effort is so appreciated, and your output is beautiful. To those who read my fics, you are the reason I write. This week has been one of the best things I've ever done - I've seen so many talented people coming together over a mutual love of momoharu, and that's such a beautiful thing. I truly love each and every one of you who made this week as special as it is.
> 
> And here we are! Some (read: mostly) late submissions, 10,000+ words, many late nights, so much angst and fluff, and my contributions to Momoharu Week 2018 have come to an end. This week has made me draw new things, write using set prompts, and it's been a wonderful week for creativity. And for those of you who've been leaving comments on my fics - thank you. You kept Momoharu Week alive just as much as any of us who made art/fics/cosplay.
> 
> See you all this time next year for another round of momoharu!!
> 
> Title from 'Folkin' Around' by Panic! At The Disco.


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